Immortal's Curse
by Hellhound of Salazar
Summary: Immortal's Curse follows the diary account of the vampire Demetrius Magdova Straghov. Forced into vampirism and scientifically developed into an immortal being, Demetrius shows how difficult it is to live forever when everyone else dies.


Immortal's Curse

Prologue

The creature slipped through the darkness with silent and sinister intent. There was no stealth, no suggestion of sneakiness and no intent of trying not to be discovered. It simply happened because that was what it did, that was the way the creature had been created, as a predator. It slowed to a stop, feeling the cold, blunt wind was mixed with all the little and large noises, each one had its own unique pitch and tone from the distant pant of the wolf and the rustle of the leaves in the air. It started to move again, traveling along a path, leaving no trail that could be seen, not even a scent. The creature held a human form, it may have even been a human once but a lifetime had been and gone many times over and what remained was merely a shell. An empty shell with no emotion, not a care for this or any world that lives and breathes on it. The creature was a twisted and tortured mind, free from its chains, a beast with a hunger for clash of blades and a need to kill.

Chapter 1: Shadows in the Dark

_Diary account: December 9__th__ February 2457_

_A human is unable to remember its birth, it cannot remember anything clearly for its first few cycles, or years as we called them. Once the human became three years its brain would have developed sufficiently enough to begin to store and remember events so that it could recall them in the future, to remember the innocence of being a child. Most children are born to sanitised hospitals, screaming defiance to the cold air of life, most children are born in a society up to date with the advances of the world, most children are born…normal; if such a thing ever existed. I was not given this privilege. I was born into a battle, a battle where men and women stood together to fight of shadows with burning sticks and sharpened silver. I was born into a royal family, to a Boyar, a Boyarina and a sister. I was never to be as famed as my sister, but that wasn't what was required. The Boyarina soon died, fighting those elusive and persistent shadows, my sister became the Boyarina from that moment. Of course she took the title and it spread quickly on her travels, my father was proud of her, the warrior daughter. I however was the inconvenience, still loved by my father and sister, but an inconvenience to raise. Drafted into the army as soon as I could stand on my two feet. I was not scared, they would not hurt me; it would have made teaching me a waste of time. So I grew and I learnt how to fight with my fist and my feet, then with my head and my heart, the men would treat me as their best friend, making crude jokes when I was old enough and wrestling or sparring with me when we were bored. My father and the soldiers always found me play-fighting with the domesticated wolves. They found it entertaining and amusing, a proper Kislevite they said. The women taught me tactics and subtlety, in our down time they tried all they could be like a mother towards me and my sister. It worked for her but I could not understand it, I had never had a mother before. When they tended to my wounds they would persistently ask if I was alright, they would run to fetch herbal medicines and anti-venoms to heal me, disregarding even their own health until I told them to leave me be and that I could carry on. They never stopped me going into battle, but ironically, I dreaded going back to the infirmary. Then when I was only twenty-five years old, it happened. The wars began, there were no raids like there used to be, these were full scaled assaults against an isolated city that had no connection to the Tsar. 1905 it was…1905._

January 22nd 1905

The armoured cavalry trotted towards east gate courtyard. This was the final one hundred women ready to fight off the shadows once again. Each woman held one silver tipped spear and carried a sheathed sword, also made with silver. This silver ad been mixed in with the steel to create a strong and sturdy weapon that could be used to fight the shadows off. Out of the one hundred, seventy-three of them were bonded, identified by the band around their left arm, known as a Bonding Band. Their husbands wore no such trinket but he would have handmade the band and presented the woman of his choice with it. They wore armour up to their necks, helmets were no longer used as they obscured the vision and were useless anyway. I ran up the steps to the walls two at a time, jogging down the battlements with a few calls to the men who prepared their own weapons. Silvered arrows were owned by every man as was a sword, just like the women. Teams worked the ballistae with their heavy, pointed stakes of wood which were as long as a man. For every three ballistae there was one catapult prepared with flaming boulders, allowing the cavalry to use fire against the shadows too. I reached the centre and clapped a man on his armoured shoulder.

"Careful now, there be a long drop down there and I'd much rather not redecorate the floor from this height." He turned and clasped my arms with two giant hands with a clatter as his gauntlets slapped against my armour. I smirked back at the old veteran, his black hair had strands of grey in it; however he was clean shaven unlike many of the other older men who sported beards that they claimed would keep them warm in the snowy wilderness when they went hunting with the wolf packs.

"Ah, it would just improve your face," we shared a laugh before growing serious and looking over to the forests in the distance. "What is it that unsettles you Alexander? I have never seen such a muster of forces before."

The veteran squinted at the forests and shook his head slowly, his voice growing dark.

"They have brought an army, but not just their own kind. That's why the Wulven are being mustered too. We have additional arrows for air assault also but-"

"Air assault?" I interjected. "We have never had air assault, they could not have it in great numbers."

"You forget Demetrius, we do not keep up with the world with our technology. Kislev is farther behind in technological advancement the rest of Russia. The only reason we have a better economy is because we are separate from them and we have a sense of equality that we can maintain."

"I see. So are they the Tsar's forces instead?"

"I wish it were that simple. The vampires are sending a mortal to try and reason with us. I suggest we kill him rather than allow the vampires to do it, it will be quicker." Alexander pointed out to a lone figure approaching through the snow from the forest. As he turned and picked up his longbow before notching one of the lead arrows. The air was still and cold, for once there was no snow falling from the skies. I nodded to him. "Korvulven guide your hand." I left him, continuing my way amongst the soldiers on battlements, satisfied that all was well. The men were in high spirits, fires kept the war machines war so as to stop the bitter cold making the cogs freeze over. I made my way down, back to the courtyard and came across the Boyar and Boyarina. I bowed my head honourably and gave my report. "Father, Sister. The war machines are ready and archers are equipped with three times the amount of arrows as usual, seventy percent of them are silver. The main Cavalry are set up and prepared along the North and South walls ready to encircle the enemy. Morale is flawless within the cavalry and on the wall, however there are new recruits amongst the courtyard defence who have not yet felt the heat of battle. Alexander Gregrovsky reports that they have sent a mortal to reason with us, he intends to shoot him down to saver him suffering at the hands of the vampires." I watched carefully, eager to get passed with the necessary but laborious duties before battle. My father looked at me gravely from under his ceremonial armour, there was little of his face I could see, just two dark grey eyes, like an aged wolf. Full of knowledge and dark, haunting secrets that no one else could know. He spoke slowly, with careful accuracy and authority.

"Ulrika and I will lead the cavalry, you will remain here, ensuring that the morale does not drop and that the cavalry here can be released in time should the gates be attacked." He raised his hand as he saw my irritated face. "I know you wish to lead and fight with the women on horseback Demetrius but we cannot allow these undead to run rampage through here. If this line is broken the city will fall. You will be a support here, you are worth a hundred of these men and I know your…crude humour will lighten the mood and help with the morale. I will see you again Demetrius." He turned and mounted his horse, making for the Northern Gate. I watched him go with little worry, he had not fallen to these shadows before, he would not fall this time, I turned to where Ulrika stood to find her mounting her own horse, I hurried to keep up.

"Ulrika, please, I am sorry for taking it and using it that way but can we not at least set out for battle on good terms?" I looked up into the pale eyes and she drew her dagger, prodding me with the pommel.

"If you ever touch this dagger, no, if you even so much as _dare_ to even _look_ at it, I will gut you with it like you gutted that bear. This was a gift from-"

"Yes, yes. A gift from mother as she died and gave you everything."

"You want my place in this society? You want to be the next ruler?"

"I have never wanted to lead this city and you know that, I just wanted to have been mentioned by mother in a letter, but instead she left nothing for me."

"I don't care Demetrius. Don't touch my dagger again or I will kill you with it. Is that clear?"

"As you wish. Boyarina." I bowed my head as she sheathed the blade and departed for the Southern Gate. I sighed, Ulrika had left in another of her silent rages. Colder and more bitter than the fiercest blizzard, her tongue would cut you down just as quickly as her blade, if not quicker.

"Now boy, tell me what bothers you. Is your blade unbalanced? Do you have an injury or illness that will slow you down?" I frowned at the young boy who stood rigidly to attention. No older than sixteen with a mat of dark hair and a sheen of sweat on his brow.

"No, Sir. I am just nervous, is all. I have never fought before and now I find myself facing an entire army of vampires who are faster than I am. I have heard what they have done to their prisoners, they drink their blood. All of it. Just like they did the Lady Matilda when she was betrayed to them by that advisor."

"That's enough boy! You know better than to mention her in front of the Lord Demetrius." The Captain looked at the boy hard. I waved it away.

"It is alright Captain, when you are afraid your tongue fails to obey the rules set by your brain. Now boy, I know that blade. A good strong blade that has seen the true death of many a vampire. Remain in formation and obey orders and you will find that the rest will come naturally. Block, counter, strike. Keep it simple and fluid and you'll be alright. Oh, and remember, if it is one of the young maidens, remember she will probably be a few centuries old when she tries to seduce you. Not such a pleasant idea when you remember that, it help greatly. Now go and get into formation with the rest, understood soldier?"

"Yes, My Lord." The boy bowed his head and made his way out from the archway and into the block of men, merging into one another.

"Now Captain," I turned to face him. "How is your condition?" He sighed and looked at me. He was probably in his mid-thirties. He had gained arthritis after being hit by a necromancers spell that he later managed to throw off, mostly.

"Worsening Demetrius. That bastard was a strong one when he hit me but I will always be nimble enough to kick a vampire up the arse should you order it." He chuckled darkly.

"Good enough, you had best sort out that rabble out there then. I do not particularly want to see that dumb shit stabbing his mate in front up the arse, homosexual or not, I want _both_ of his swords sheathed until the vampires get here." The Captain bowed his head before striding over to his men, bellowing orders so loud that one of the archers on the walls jumped up to attention also. There was no doubt that the vampires would get here, they always did along with other horrors.

_Diary Account_

_Ah yes, the Lady Matilda. A most beautiful and spectacular woman who I was meant to give a Bonding Band before her murder. A painful time for me then when I would spend hours looking for enemies and jumping at shadows that were not actually there. A dark time where I was a maddened and reckless fool, throwing myself at any real enemy I could find and beating it to a pulp. After a long while I calmed and soon that battle came in 1905. That was when it began properly, effectively the true beginning of my insanity was with Lady Matilda's murder, but only did it piece together at that fateful battle. We knew this one was different because there was an army and there had never been an army before. A simple and accurate assumption but we could never have prepared for an aerial assault. Nevertheless, we managed to survive, although I think that to say that we won was anything but true._

January 24th 1905

"You are a weak and slow human, unfit to walk the lands here. I would enjoy your slow and painful-" The vampire hissed as I drove a silvered arrow-tip into his ankle, reducing him into ashes. I kicked away the pile of dust, scattering it to the winds.

"If you are going to kill, shut up and get on with it. It is unprofessional."

"An inspiring speech Sir, but forgive me if I continue to shout to the winds." I laughed as I got to my feet and stabbed into the sky, pulling own a winged horror. I jerked my head away as the black blood flooded down onto my head. "My goodness, what handsome gentleman!" Alexander Gregrovsky shouted over the clash of blades, shooting down several of the winged beasts which resembled man sized rats with wings and long, clawed feet with talons the length of a short sword. "Perhaps you should join pest removal when this is over?"

"Shove your pests up your arse you old bastard!" I laughed, lifting up a second sword with my feet and blocking a vampire's blade whilst stabbing his partner through her eye. Enraged the vampire spun around me with blinding speed, only years of training taught me to roll forwards and even then I only narrowly avoided a decapitating blow. We struggled as our blades came together, my two holding his in place with a great amount of effort. I felt the monstrous strength pushing me backwards to the ground until he was knocked away, an arrow in his eye. Falling backwards onto the snowy ground, I rolled and came to my feet as the vampire pulled the arrow out, his eye regenerating until an axe beheaded him. With the body soon set alight, the head dissolved into a horrible mess on the ground. Well, the old man could hit something; always a comforting sight. I turned to regard the forces outside the castle, with a cursory glance, things were going poorly. I stared for a moment, seeing the remnants of the cavalry had been forced together on the far side of the plains, surrounded by the opposition. By our nature, Kislevites were tough individuals and fierce fighters, often regarded as barbarians by those unfortunate enough to meet us, but even this was not enough against the undead hoards. I turned sharply, running down the battlement steps two at a time. In the action I had dropped my swords, sprinting over to the stables where my own horse was tethered. I had named the strong, black animal Matilda after my lost love. I leapt upon her and drawing a sword that was stacked in a rack. I sliced the ropes and dug in my heels and to my commands she leapt forth. She carried me swiftly out of the gates and across the plains, attacked by a few undead creatures which were either cut down by my adopted blade, or trampled under Matilda's hooves.


End file.
